Lost to Revenge
by Elena George
Summary: Back story of how Red and Lizzie met.


Lost to Revenge

His breath swirled around his head and Lieutenant Commander Raymond Reddington, USN, huffed his way home through the cold December morning. He had run out of gas and was going to be horribly late. He kept running the whole episode through his head. Two CODs and countless other military airlifts only to run out of gas a few miles from home. From Warsaw, he had driven to Berlin and through Checkpoint Charlie into the West. He caught a flight from Tempelhof to Rhein-Main. From there, he caught a flight to England where he was flown out to the carrier. From the carrier, he got as far as Nova Scotia. There he picked up a NALO into Andrews AFB where one of his many supervisors waited. His superiors at Naval Intelligence in Suitland had royally reamed him out. A short hop got him to NAS Norfolk where his family lived in the suburbs down by the Chesapeake Bay. Reddington unlocked the door of his car, piled the bags of Christmas gifts into the backseat and headed home.

After the blown assignment in Moscow, it would be good to be home. His very position as a Naval Attaché to the embassy was in jeopardy now. He'd figure that out when he flew back to Europe, but for now, it was time to rest and relax in the arms of his wife who was doubtlessly worried by now. He had completely forgotten to fill the tank before he left, neither had he stopped for gas on the way home. His mind was fogged by the details of the assignment and the pure pleasure of heading home.

Reddington caught sight of his home and broke into a wide smile. "Home, at last!" he said to himself.

He had not noticed that the lights were not on nor had the steps or porch been swept clear of snow. All he could see through bleary eyes were his fingers fumbling with keys. The door opened quickly.

"I'm home!" he called out. "Daddy's home! Where's my girl?"

It felt warm and cold at the same time. He listened to the silence. Then he noticed the lack of holiday cooking scents in the air. His nose picked up something else entirely. It was the smell of blood. He moved further into the house. Blood was everywhere in the living room. He panicked. He raced up the stairs. There was blood in his daughter's room. He raced to his own room. Empty. He tripped back down the stairs and tore to the kitchen. Blood was leading out the door. He followed it until it ended only a few feet away from the back porch. His head was reeling as his body swayed in the cold air. He sat down on the porch steps and collapsed into sobs, inconsolable sobs.

Unsure of who had just taken his life from him, Reddington decided to leave the house. He'd make an anonymous call to the police later. He walked into the center of the village and bought a bus ticket. He'd go see his old roommate from Annapolis, Bill Gerard. Bill had not made the Navy his career and lived in Nebraska with his family. Reddington and his family had spent many vacations out in Nebraska with the Gerards. Across the nation rolled the bus with an increasingly disheveled Raymond Reddington aboard. An old farm truck dropped him at Bill's lane. He hiked the mile up the drive and pounded on the door and waited.

The door flew open and Bill's smiling face was just on the other side.

"Raymond! Come in, come in!" Bill happily welcomed his old friend with whom he had enjoyed many a misadventure in college. He noticed that Reddington looked confused, dazed, spent. "Ray, what is it? what's wrong?" Bill added while looking about for the rest of the Reddington crew.

"They're gone..." Reddington sputtered as Bill pulled him inside.

Bill sized Reddington up and down. His uniform was completely a shambles.

"Who's gone?" Bill inquired. "I told you that you never should have gone into 'Navy Intell.' It takes you away from home for as long as bubbleheads are gone. You should have gone supply corps with me."

A happy little voice chimed in, "Uncle Ray-Ray!" Bill's daughter plowed into Reddington with abandon.

She was lifted into Reddington's arms. Elizabeth rubbed Reddington growing beard stubble and wrinkled her nose. Reddington did his best to give the child a small smile.

"Hi there, yourself, Lizzie," he choked out.

"Where my Maggie?" the child inquired.

"She's not coming, sweetheart. Your dad and I need to talk for a bit," Reddington said softly as he placed the little girl back on the floor.

"Okay," she said cheerily and scampered off.

Bill led Reddington into the den, offered him a cigar and chair, "Okay, out with it. I've never seen you like this before, not even after shore leave in Thailand."

Reddington took a deep breath, "I don't know where to begin. I went home for Christmas, ran out of gas..." He paused, looking at the floor, "I've been burned."

They sat in silence.

Reddington began again, "I was on an op in Moscow. I was handling a refusnik, a physicist for the Red Navy. He had a girl...her dad was some high up muckety-muck in the KGB. I was days short of getting them out of the country when the whole damn thing blew all over me. Washington recalled me."

More silence as Reddington slowly undid his shoes and began to merge himself with the chair.

With a heavy sigh, he continued, "I got my ass chewed, let it roll off my shoulders. I mean, after all, I couldn't do a thing about it. My cover was blown, and I did not do it. The refusnik was hauled off to some gulag in the East and that was that."

"What happened to the firl?" Bill wanted to know.

Reddington shrugged, "No idea." He finsihed off the beer in his hand, "I guess she went East as well. You know the commies don't like it much when we get too close to one of theirs."

Bill nodded, "Never a problem for a BOQ officer."

Reddington looked up and chuckled, "Nope. No cloak and dagger for you. Just six years in and out the door. You've done well for yourself," he went on as he looked around.

"Can't complain," Bill smiled. "So you were burned?"

Reddington nodded and continued, "Don't know if it was our side or the commies. I got home and found the place covered in blood. It was deserted, completely deserted. I figured whoever took my family was likely to come back for me. So, here I am. I doubt they can find me here."

"What next?" Bill wanted to know.

Reddington's face contorted with silent rage, "Revenge. I will find out who did this to me and have my revenge on them, even if I have to burn down the whole world to get there."

Bill thought about that for a moment, "Look Ray, there is one thing you don't know about me. My real family name is not Gerard, but Garibaldi."

Reddington looked up, "The Sicilian crime family?"

Bill nodded, "Nobody knows, not even Nancy or her family. You think a nice Washington socialite like Nancy would have married a mobster?"

Reddington gave half a smile, "Doubt it."

He sat and mulled it over a moment as Bill refreshed their beers.

"So, if you are looking for a new job, I might have one for you," Bill followed up as he returned to his seat. "Your only loyalty is to yourself now. How about coming to work for my family. We can get your out of the country and in business in no time. I know you have vast talents that could be put to other uses than the spy game."

Reddington finished the second beer, "Could be. But I don't know any Italian."

They both burst out laughing, Bill concluded with, "Didn't know any Russian when you went to Moscow either!"

Reddington suddenly found himself simply exhausted and too tired to move. He fell fast asleep in the chair. He felt Bill stuff something into his jacket but was too tired to immediately retrieve it.

Reddington's eyes opened suddenly as the howls of a smoke detector alerted the entire house to trouble. He shook the sleep away and bolted into the house, looking for Bill, Nancy , and Lizzie. The heat was rising as he leapt up stairs two by three and two again.

"Bill! Nancy!" he screamed over the now rushing flames. He was coughing from the smoke. He decided to do what they taught them - get down, close to the floor where the air is better. He would tell them the air was not all that good down there either.

He could make out Nancy screaming. It sounded as if she was outside the house. That left Bill and Lizzie to account for.

"Bill!" he shrieked again.

"Here. We're in here," Bill called out from Lizzie's room.

The fire was spreading faster now. Reddington clawed his way down the hall to Lizzie's room. The door stood ajar. On his side flames, on their side more flames. There was no way out. Bill held Lizzie in his arms.

"Ray! Take Lizzie!" Bill shouted over the fire's roar. "I can't make it over with her in my arms."

Reddington nodded, stood in the middle of the fire and reached for the little girl. Lizzie was screaming at the top of her lungs and then taken over by coughing as the smoke billowed around them. Bill tossed her small body toward his friend with a prayer.

Reddington gathered the child in his arms and made for the open door. He had just made it to the hallway as the floor gave way, carrying Bill to his fiery death below. All Reddington wanted to do was get out of the hell he found himself in. There was no time to grieve for his lost friend. A beam from the ceiling crashed down on top of him and the little girl. He writhed in agony as his back caught fire. He rolled backward in an attempt to put the fire out.

Again, he picked up Lizzie whose muffled cries were much quieter now. Reddington was worried that she has suffered smoke inhalation. Her body was no longer thrashing around. He tucked her face deeper into his jacket and pressed on. He could see the stairs, or what was left of them. Pulling Lizzie as tightly to his chest as he could he ran through the flames toward the door. He was really on fire now, but if he was to get the child to safety, he had to will himself to keep moving.

He crashed through the door onto the porch and then to the front yard. He let Lizzie slid from his arms as he fell into the grass and rolled again and again to put the fire out. Nancy just stood there screaming and screaming. With the flames now extinguished, Reddington lay on his back panting and coughing. His back no longer hurt.

Rolling over, Reddington called out in a hoarse whisper, "Lizzie?"

Crawling, Reddington half-blinded by the smoke and heat found Lizzie. he felt a pulse, so he shook her gently. She started coughing and crying and heaving again. By this time, Nancy had quit screaming and simply sat down. A vacant stare stole across her lovely face. Reddington tried to assess his injuries without much success. He knew he had been burned, but it did not hurt like it first did. He concluded the burns must have gone beyond the nerve endings. Shock and infection were the present problems while pain would return later. He staggered to his feet.

He bent down and addressed Nancy, "Nancy?"

She just stared at the burning house. Reddington waved his hand in front of her. There was still no response. He shook her. No response. Lizzie began to cry in earnest. Reddington picked her back up to quiet her.

"Shh. Lizzie. Shh," Reddington croaked out as he tried to rock her. "Come on. Nothing we can do here."

He shuffled to Gerard car, put Lizzie in the back safety seat. He tugged on Nancy's arms to get her moving. Once everyone was in the vehicle, Reddington leaned forward, putting his head on the steering wheel. He was trembling. He could not control it. He panted for a few minutes before switching the ignition on and leaving the still burning home. He could hear the volunteer fire department slowing making its way to the scene. But it was already over for Red, Bill, Nancy, and just beginning for Lizzie.


End file.
